When I submitted my latest post to My French Life, the global community of French and francophiles connecting like-minded people in English & French on 11th December, I firmly believed that the fireplace renovation would be finished. We still plan to celebrate New Year in front of the fire – it might just be a few days late!
An earlier article on My French Life™ by Hannah Duke, called Christmas en Français: Festive Vocabulary, included the word réveillon,which set me thinking about New Year because the same word is used for both celebrations.
When I was growing up in Australia, I don’t particularly remember celebrating the New Year and I certainly didn’t stay up until past midnight as implied by the word réveillon, which contains veiller, meaning to stay awake. Read more
Relationnel and I have a collection of Australian Akubra and Stetson hats that we wear in winter. When we’re going away and packing the car, we often put two or more on top of each other to carry downstairs.
It’s 1.30 pm and Relationnel’s rushing to get everything in the car as quickly as he can so he can leave Paris straight after work and arrive in Blois in time for our anniversary dinner. When the car’s packed, he leaves it in the street and walks down the street to the office.
On the way, he meets a couple of people he knows and they give him a strange look but he didn’t know why.
When he gets to the office, one of his coworkers says, “That’s an interesting way to wear a hat”, but he still doesn’t understand the problem. “Why, what’s the matter?” “Well, I don’t know. That not the usual way to wear a hat is it.” So he takes it off and discovers he’s wearing two!
There’s an expression in French: “C’est un vrai marchand de tapis” which literally means “he’s a real carpet salesman” but which actually means someone who haggles over small sums.
I’ve managed to find nearly everything I need to make our gîte in Blois as perfect as possible, but I am still missing two small bedside rugs. I can’t find anything I liked, new or old, at a decent price although I have found two large rugs without much problem. With the arrival of winter, especially for barefoot Australian guests, I am starting actively to look again.
Our favourite fishmonger at Saint Eustache market
It’s Sunday and we’re at the market. I’m waiting for the fish to be gutted so I stroll over to a little stall selling carpets and rugs. This is not a particularly cheap market, I might add. I ask the lady how much a small one would cost as there are obviously no prices. “Oh, I’ll ask my husband. He’ll be here in a minute”. A friendly man arrives and says, “One hundred euro. Pure silk”.
“Oh, that’s too expensive I’m afraid,” I answer. “It’s for my gîte and I can’t afford to spend too much. I’m not saying it isn’t worth that much, just that it’s above my budget.” I don’t really care whether I buy them or not and am certainly not paying a hundred euro each. “Well”, he says, “tell me how much you’d be prepared to spend.”
Our bargain rugs
“More like two for a hundred,” I say. “Ok, you can have two for a hundred”, he says, just like that. I’m flabbergasted, but I don’t show it. “I just need to check with my husband”, I answer. He goes off to his truck to find the second rug while I go back to the fish stall and tell Relationnel that I’ve found the rugs I’m looking for. “Go ahead,” he says. “You know what we need.” “Yes, but I still want you to have a look.”
I’m wondering if maybe these rugs are fake or something. I go back and chat with the lady. The man returns without the second rug but says that he has two others that are the same, just a different colour. I hum and ha, though I really think the second colour is probably better anyway.
In-situ to keep our guests’ feet warm
Relationnel arrives and turns the rug over and looks at the label. He approves so I hand over the cash and the man rolls them both up. As we walk away, I explain to Relationnel what happened. He is astonished, “Bravo!” he says. I never bargain for anything usually – I’m totally hopeless, he’s much better at it. “He’s not a marchand de tapis for nothing”, he says. I walk along feeling very pleased with myself!
N.B. The Expat Blog Award closes on 15th December – don’t forget to leave a review if you haven’t already – http://www.expatsblog.com/blogs/526/aussie-in-france
I’ve at last decided to leave Paris again because of the balcony renovation and go back to Blois. It’s not that I want to. This living in two places is starting to wear me down. I’m also exhausted by the company-closing business. And I won’t see Relationnel for another 9 days. However, Françoise, my friend and neighbour in Blois, has very kindly said she’ll pick me up at the train station, which makes me feel better.
Memebers of the Confrerie Gourmande du Nougat de Tours at Blois train station
When I arrive, I see several people wearing mortar boards. A graduation ceremony in a train station? That can’t be right. It turns out to be a Brotherhood, with a few sisters thrown in. They are dressed in blue silk coats, white gloves and mortar boards with white, red and yellow trimming and are called the Confrérie Gourmande du Nougat de Tours! You may remember the word “gourmand” from my post on café gourmand.
They are busy setting out cake boxes, plastic cups, apple juice, quizzes and pens. They’re also handing out small slices of cake to taste. Françoise gives me a quiz to do. We have to read the information panels to find the answers, then ask one of the brothers or sisters to answer the last question – who are the Brotherhood’s patron saints? They turn out to be Saint Michel (pastrycooks) and Saint Martin (Tours and sharing!). We complete the quiz and get all the answers right so are each presented with a box of nougat cake!
Me in my Australian Akubra hat tasting the nougat cake
The cake consists of a shortbread crust filled with apricot marmelade (they used to use alberge, a sort of early peach), interspersed with candied fruit and covered with a moist almond topping sprinkled with icing sugar. Very tasty, I must say!
Apparently, the little round cake was forgotten for many years but one of the first recipes, dating back to 1865, was found in the library of a famous restaurant owner in Tours, Charles Barrier, in the cook book of Charles III of Monaco’s chef. A little bit complicated I agree. It was resurrected in the 1970s and “nougat de Tours” has been selling like hotcakes ever since.
Nougat cakes from Dominique Grias’ bakery in Tours
Of course, Leonardo Vinci, an iconic figure in Touraine, is supposed to have been a fan as well, because he loved almonds and candied fruit which were known as “chamber spices” back in Renaissance times. The Brotherhood was set up in 1998 and holds a “Best Nougat” competition every year open to professionals. The cake I tasted comes from the ovens of Dominique Grias, 91, avenue de la République, Tours-Nord.
A complete list of places to buy the cakes is to be found on the Brotherhood’s website – along with the recipe. Enjoy !
In this Wednesday’s bloggers’ round-up, New Zealander Rebecca Russel (now living in Nice), tells us in a post on My French Life how French women manage to stay slim while American blogger in Paris, Sylvia from Finding Noon, who “likes food a lot”, suggests places to find slimming things like crèpes and butter in Saint Malo in Brittany. On an entirely different subject, Pierre from Paris on Demand describes the Dali retrospective at the Pompidou Centre this winter. The last one was at least 33 years ago (I know – I went to it!), so this year’s is not to be missed! Enjoy!
A French woman’s secret to staying slim
by Rebecca Russel, who lives in Nice on the Côte d’Azur, and is the Director of a property search company, Côte Abode. While looking for French Riviera property on behalf of international clients, she also keeps a keen eye on the latest places to eat, shop and simply enjoy visiting.
I was reminded of how French women eat while dining at a restaurant with an American friend recently. Halfway through our meal he noticed that as each course arrived I would methodically divide up the food and set aside a third.
He meanwhile wolfed into snails in garlic butter (well, he did want to try something French), followed by a whole fish encased in crushed almonds and cooked (again) in butter, accompanied by my leftover pureed potatoes with truffle oil. He finished the entire bread basket before the mains had arrived. We followed this up with cheese and dessert. Read more
Saint Malo
by Finding Noon, an American living in Paris who appreciates fine art, good music, succulent food, and breath taking scenery
Two weekends ago we went to Cancale, and I raved about our trip, and it was fantastic, but then life happened and I start writing about more timely stuff, like the Paris Photo Festival, which I really encourage you to go see, which means I got side tracked and didn’t fully finish talking about our trip, which is fine, because, well, do you really care about every little thing we saw and tasted and experienced? I hope not, for your sake! On the other hand, I do like food an awful lot and we had some great meals on this trip that I really want to remember so I can book places for our next trip, so today, I am indulging myself and making a list of my St Malo favorite foods. First, the fish that got away. Read more.
Dali’s retrospective at Beaubourg
by Pierre from Paris on Demand, aimed at helping tourists and Paris lovers to get to know the city of Light under a different perspective, offering news and updates on exhibitions, museums, restaurants, off-the-beaten-track addresses, events and tips to prepare their trip and understand the Parisian way of life.
The Beaubourg Museum will definitely be one of the hot spots in town this winter with the Dali retrospective which will display more than 150 pieces of art by the eccentric artist who was a prolific painter, sculptor and writer.Along with the paintings, visitors will have the opportunity to watch unreleased videos of the artist, TV commercials he directed, photographs…
This exhibition is an unprecedented tribute to the most famous surrealist artist who was a pioneer and an example for future generations.
Part 1 of the story of how I closed Leonardo’s one-man company ended with the drab tax office in Saint Maur so that leaves only two more places to go. First, the legal publications office, back in Paris, then the commercial court in Créteil, also in the eastern suburbs. It would have been more logical to start with the LPO, but I didn’t know that when I began. Of course.
Opéra de Paris
I drive to the LPO, but it’s just near the Paris Opera and there is absolutely no chance of parking. I can’t even find the street, let alone park. I take the car back to our garage and decide I’ll leave the LPO until tomorrow . When I get up to the 3rd floor and open the door, I can already hear the workers chiselling and talking loudly.
Scaffolding on my balcony in the Palais Royal
I change my mind about the LPO. Halfway there, on foot this time, I realise that I don’t have the right papers. I’m fading fast. I go back home but I don’t have the keys and can’t remember the downstairs door code . I try Relationnel but he’s not answering. I phone Black Cat who comes to my rescue. I have the code to the home exchange key box upstairs, so that’s fine. I can get in. And stay in.
The workers have not stopped. I dissolve into tears of frustration. I unplug my laptop from the large screen, keyboard, mouse and internet and go into the kitchen to try and get some work done. There is no internet connection. I eventually return to my office and plug everything in again. Nothing happens. The laptop won’t recognise the screen. I jab the plug in and out and it finally works. But the keyboard and mouse aren’t functioning.
Decorations on Printemps in anticipation of the next paragraph
I try all sorts of methods, to no avail. I can’t even turn the laptop off. I google solutions on my iPhone and finally manage to turn it off. I go and have a shower. When I get back, I turn the laptop on and everything works but by then it’s 6.30 pm and I’ve wasted most of the afternoon. The workers have gone home.
Decorations in the window of Galéries Lafayette
It’s next morning so after waking up to the drilling and chiselling, I set out for the LPO. I have to go the long way because they’re making another film in the Palais Royal. Now I’m having problems finding the street again, this time with my iPhone. I ask a lady in a pharmacy who tells me it’s behind Galeries Lafayette. Well, she’s wrong, but at least I get to see the Christmas decorations at Printemps (not bad) and GL (not much better than last year). I go past a tearoom called Pouchkine that looks interesting and make a mental note to go there sometime.
Café Pouchkine 64 boulevard Haussmann
I finally find the street, around the corner from the Apple Store. Now why didn’t anyone tell me it was there? I hand over the announcement with Leonardo’s power of attorney printed out and signed by me. They don’t even ask for his identity card. I find that shocking. That means that anyone can make a legal announcement! I am asked for an advance payment of 250 euro. Why advance ? “Because it could be a little more or a little less”. What is this? Surely they can work out exactly how much it’s going to cost!
Filming in the Palais Royal
One step left: the commercial court in Créteil but we’re going to the wine fair during Relationnel’s lunch break and he’s already late. The court will be closed by the time I get there. Also I won’t feel like it after all that wine tasting! Right then, first thing Monday morning. Next and last episode coming soon.
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If you’ve been following my blog, you’ll know that I recently went on holidays to Australia and it was not always as I expected. In my monthly guest post for My French Life, the global community of French and francophiles connecting like-minded people in English & French, I ponder on where I really belong.
I lobbied alongside fellow expats from the Southern Cross Group a few years ago to have the Australian constitution changed so that Australian citizens living overseas could have dual nationality.
We were successful so I applied for French nationality. Now I can vote in French elections and I have a French ID. I can’t vote in Australia, though, because I have been ‘disenfranchised’ as I no longer reside in Australia.
When I travel to Australia, I use my Australian passport and when I return to France, I use my French passport. It’s like slipping into another skin. Read more
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It’s been one of those days. You know, the sort where no matter what you do, there’s always a problem.
Renovated urns on my balcony in the Palais Royal
I wake up, not to the birds in Blois, but to hammering on the balcony in Paris. After breakfast, I go to see what progress has been made. « It’ll soon be finished”, says worker #1. “Wonderful!”, I reply, getting my hopes up. “When?” “4th December”. My heart leaps! “You mean, there’ll be no morescaffolding then?” “No”, replies worker #2, dashing my hopes. “He just means the chiselling. The scaffolding won’t go until after Christmas.” Sigh.
Today’s the big day that I’m closing Leonardo’s company for him because he’s still in Australia. I start with the accountant, JJ, who’s in Vincennes in the eastern suburbs, about a half an hour away when the traffic’s good. I take a wrong turn at Bercy because I don’t understand what the Tom-Tom’s telling me what to do again. I eventually get there and have trouble parking. Of course. I finally find a spot with a parking meter.
Tax office in Nogent trying to brighten the taxpayers’ day
An hour later, I leave JJ’s for the tax office in Nogent, another 20 to 25 minutes away. I used to live around there but don’t recognise half the places in between so lose my way a bit. I’m driving the Volvo station wagon and it’s very unwieldly. In Nogent, I can’t park either. I have to go to an underground car park 20 minutes walk away. At least I’m getting some exercise.
At the tax office, I breeze upstairs to the “corporate” section, past the large queues in the personal income tax section. I hand over file n° 1 and am told there is something missing. I ring JJ who is very surprised but tells me to come back with all the documents including the archives. I manage to convince the man in the corporate section to take Leonardo’s personal declaration to avoid the daunting queue downstairs.
Bistrot in Nogent called “Au Petit Vin Blanc” but I had a glas of red
When I get outside, I phone JJ back and talk to one of his employees. She says that she personally looked after file n° 1 and she knows I have the missing paper somewhere. I sit down on a bench and go through the entire file, calmly and collectedly this time, and find the paper. I go back upstairs and hand it over. It seems Leonardo will be getting some VAT back so I give them my bank details and hand over Leonardo’s scanned handwritten proxy. They don’t realise it’s a scan and not an original and make a photocopy. Relief.
Cream caramel with unnecessary chantilly cream – but I ate it anyway.
Now that I don’t have to go back to see JJ, I decide to talk to someone about Leonardo’s personal declaration, which is a few months late because he couldn’t contact them from Australia, but it’s ten to twelve and they’re closing for lunch. I try insisting but it doesn’t work. I find myself a little bistro with WIFI and have a blanquette de veau, a crème caramel, a glass of bordeaux (I can tell you, I need it!) and a coffee. All for 19 euros.
I arrive at the tax office 10 minutes early and there are already three other people waiting. Fortunately, I get to see someone straight away. The woman is very understanding and we get it all sorted out. Leonardo won’t even have to pay a late fine. Relief again.
Drab tax office in Saint Maur les Fosses
Next stop is the tax office at Saint Maur, another 20 minutes by car, where I have to register the minutes of the annual general meeting during which it was decided to close his one-man company. A fictive AGM as you can imagine. It’s a drab building in a pretty leafy suburb with no parking. Of course. I finally find a spot miles away and, once again, when I arrive at the tax office, I breeze up to the third floor. There’s no one there but after a while, an employee appears and I’m able to see the appropriate person and hand over file n° 2 (plus 413 euros).
Typical house in Saint Maur near the drab tax office
Now back to Paris for the next step. But I’m sure you’re as exhausted and as bored as me, so I’ll write the next episode on Tuesday!
It’s amazing how quickly Wednesday comes round again! This week’s bloggers’ round-up starts with two interesting restaurants. Mary Kay from Out and About in Paris takes us to Café Signes where sign language is the main means of communication, while fellow Australian Wendy Hollands from Le Franco Phoney introduces us to the “bouchon” in Lyon, the food capital of France. Stephanie, the Llamalady from Blog in France takes us on a different adventure with a history of candles.
Two thumbs up for sign language cafe in Paris, Café Signes
by Mary Kay from Out and About in Paris, an American by birth, Swiss by marriage, resident of Paris with a Navigo Pass for the metro that she feels compelled to use.
Ordering lunch or a cup of coffee in a country where you don’t speak the language can occasionally feel like a daunting task. One restaurant in Paris offers an easy solution because each of their menus has pictures of all the signs needed to communicate an order. If you’re thirsty and would like something to drink, simply make a fist with the fingers of your right hand, extend your thumb and raise your hand towards your mouth. But don’t be surprised if your waiter responds with rapid hand gestures because Café Signes is operated by a mixture of non-hearing and hearing staff. Read more.
The Bouchons of Lyon
by Wendy Hollands from Le Franco Phoney, an Australian who writes about all things French in La Clusaz, Annecy and Haute Savoie as seen by an outsider ...
Lyon is the food capital of France, and part of the reason for that is bouchon restaurants. A bouchon is a traditional Lyonnaise restaurant, usually family-run, serving traditional dishes such as tripe, brains and tête de veau (head of a calf). Pictured is the interior of one such restaurant in Lyon, Le Bouchon des Carnivores. Some might find it amusing that a vegetarian ends up eating at a French restaurant for carnivores, and indeed, my party of four thought it hilarious, but I had the last laugh. But let me rewind. Read more.
Chandelle versus Bougie: A Brief History of Candles
by Stephanie, the Llamalady, from Blog in France, an Irish llama and alpaca breeder living in the centre of France, who also runs a carp fishery and a holiday gite.
What is it about winter nights and candles? I’ve been having candlelit baths (known as spooky baths in the Dagg household) for about a month now. They’re wonderful! Candles feel cosy and relaxing but I’d never think of lighting one in summer, even late when it is dark.
Candles have been around in various forms since the Chinese Qin Dynasty in 300 BC. Yup, the Chinese got there first as usual and used whale fat. Beeswax came in about rather later. Read more.
This Wednesday, Jeff Titelius from Euro Travelogue takes us on a tour of Christmas markets in Germany with stunning photos that all look by picture postcards. Fellow Australian, Carolyn Lee, from Escape to Paris, gives lots of suggestions for maintaining your French when not in France and Bread is Pain talks about French phlegm. Enjoy!
In Search of Christmas: Germany Christmas Market Tour
by Jeff Titelius from Euro Travelogue: European travel impressions brought to life through the power of lens and pen.
Herald in the holidays and Advent this year with an unforgettable visit to one of Germany’s classic Christmas markets or Christkindlmarkts as they are known locally. Steeped in centuries-old traditions and customs, you can find a Christmas market in just about every landmark city and storybook village throughout Germany—town squares that come alive with the sights and sounds and smells of Christmas! Lining historic city-centre squares, hundreds of elaborately decorated Alpine chalets are brimming with traditionally hand-crafted gifts and festive ornaments, not to mention the savory indulgences of food and Glühwein or mulled wine of course—hard to resist after their tantalizing aromas reach your cold little noses! Read more
escape the tyranny of distance… and maintain your French
by Carolyne Lee, from Escape to Paris, an Australian writer, teacher, and researcher who tries to spend every spare moment in France
The great challenge for Australian francophones is maintaining our French, given our distance from France. Even with one or two trips per year, as some of us are able to make, there are still long fallow periods when we’re not using French for many months at a stretch. I’m always interested to hear other Aussie Francophones tell how they do their ‘maintenance’. The most fluent people, from my small and fairly random sampling, seem to keep up their French by reading French books on a regular basis, preferably daily, and this is also what I do. Read more
Freaking Out Frenchie
by Bread is Pain, a 30-something American living in the Rhone-Alps, and slowly eating and drinking herself through the country
So the other night MB and I were sitting watching an episode of French Masterchef. The contestants were in the middle of a challenge in which they had to create a thin hollow ball made of out sugar (not exactly like the BBQ challenges of US Masterchef). In one part of the challenge it was necessary to roll out and work the hot sugar “dough” which is at a dangerously high temperature, they have to wear special gloves. One contestant is working his dough and talking about how hot it is and how you must be very careful. The contestant next to him then accidentally sticks her naked elbow into the dough and lets out a scream. Read more
An earlier article on My French Life™ by Hannah Duke, called Christmas en Français: Festive Vocabulary, included the word réveillon,which set me thinking about New Year because the same word is used for both celebrations.
